


Angel in the Ashes

by espiritus



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Blood and Gore, Cait's parents are total asshats, Drug Abuse, Drug Addiction, F/F, F/M, Family, Feels, Friendship, Gen, Intervention, Past Abuse, Seriously fucked-up shite, Suicidal Thoughts, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, What you don't know about gladiatorial combat could kill you, lots of salty language, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-23 09:01:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10716315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/espiritus/pseuds/espiritus
Summary: Born Catherine Grace O'Connor to a couple of assholes she called family, Cait was abused and sold into slavery at the tender age of eighteen. When she escaped, she murdered her parents in a fit of rage and, unable to get the sight of their mutilated bodies out of her head, turned to chems and alcohol for comfort.Some years later, she's risen through the ranks to become Tommy Lonegan's favourite cage fighter at the Combat Zone, which caters to a rather unsavory clientele. The Raiders are crass and violent, but they keep the caps coming in... and, when a woman in a blue suit shows up and guns them all down, Cait suddenly finds herself with no job, no income, and only chems and alcohol to help her forget.When the blue-clad woman, who calls herself Von, strikes a deal with Tommy to take over Cait's contract, neither of them is sure how to feel. Von seems nice enough- she's smart, and frequently helps others without expecting anything in return, though Cait's past has taught her to trust no one. But, with her addiction to Psycho spiralling out of control, she has only two choices: die early, or put her cards on the table and trust Von to help her kick the habit before it's too late.





	Angel in the Ashes

**Author's Note:**

> _I was raised in a deep dark hole,_   
>  _a prisoner with no parole;_   
>  _they locked me up and took my soul,_   
>  _ashamed of what they'd made._
> 
> -jordan reyne, _go tell aunt rhody_

Before the Great War of 2077, the Combat Zone had been a thing of beauty. Constructed in 2032 as a theatre, men in suits and women in elegant gowns once filled the rows of red plush seats every weekend to watch people perform incredible feats of strength onstage... One could assert that it served the same purpose even now, two hundred years later, though to say that it was run-down and catered to a vastly different clientele these days would have been the understatement of the century.

Diamond City was _run-down_. Vault 81 was collapsing in on itself, and the Hotel Rexford was a shithole... But they all looked like palaces next to the Combat Zone, which was so dilapidated that all someone would have to do is breathe the wrong way and the whole thing would crumble to dust. The seats all stank of blood and piss and stale booze, and only the scum of the Commonwealth passed through its doors: Raiders mostly, and the occasional drifter searching for work... At least that was how Cait had ended up here in the first place. 

Indeed, life in the Commonwealth was tough for most. But Cait- christened Catherine- had endured more suffering in her twenty-five years than most people twice her age did in their lives, and it showed: her parents had abused her for many years and, due to the severity of the beatings, many of the bones in her face were either warped or underdeveloped. At thirteen, she'd run away from home and slept under a bridge for a week before a passing Raider gang picked her up, stole her supplies, and raped her until she bled. But her parents hadn't cared about that either- the beatings had resumed the very night she returned home, and they'd continued right up until she was sold to the slavers.

Despite her various scars and disfigurements, Cait was not unattractive and often used her looks to her advantage. She wasn't above trading sex for a warm meal or a safe place to sleep, though she often hated herself for it as soon as the deed was done and would be grateful when the other person- or people- finally left her alone. She'd lost track of the nights she'd spent alone in the dark, too numb to feel dirty or ashamed, staring down the barrel of her shotgun and wondering why she hadn't yet pulled the trigger. Perhaps it was because she still hoped that there was something out there worth living for, or she was a coward who didn't have the guts to end it all for good.

She hadn't grown up wanting to become a famous fighter. But fighting was all she knew and, at the time, it had seemed that making a career out of the one thing she was good at was the logical choice. Staying with Tommy would mean the end of sleeping with sleazy strangers for food and shelter, and so she'd jumped at the chance to perform onstage at the Combat Zone. But, before the ink on her new contract was even dry, regret had already set in. And, when one of the patrons had offered her some Psycho to 'take the edge off', she'd accepted without so much as a second thought... But that was three years ago, and she now needed it like most people needed to eat or breathe.

On the days she hated herself most, the Psycho helped her to function. It made her feel human again, if only for a couple of hours, and she could focus long enough to forget that she- Catherine Grace O'Connor, daughter of the two biggest wastes of life to ever exist- was completely alone in this fucked-up world. Tommy was the closest she had to a friend, though she knew he only kept her around because of the caps she brought in and that he'd cut her loose as soon as he caught wind of her illness. Being sick or injured, or outing herself as an addict, would mean no work and no money, a position she was unwilling to risk. And so, night after night, she'd suck it up, stitch her wounds, and spit out the blood, all the while hoping that one of her opponents would finally put an end to her suffering.

This particular night was no different. While Cait waited for her turn in the cage, she sat and sipped a Gwinnett Pale, hoping that it would calm her nerves before the show. She hated crowds, and Raiders, and having to pretend that she didn't want to pump them all full of lead. Some kept to themselves, while others- like the three men one table over- leered at her and made disgusting comments about the things they'd do to her after the match was over.

"'Ey, little bird," one chirped sweetly- at least that's what she figured he was going for, even if it was obvious that he'd graduated from the Stale-Batch-of-Fancy-Lads-Snack-Cakes-Dropped-Into-the-Toilet-Then-Pissed-On-and-Left-in-the-Hot-Sun-For-a-Few-Weeks school of charisma. "Maybe after you beat the shit outta that other gal, I'll pound you into submission with my-"

"Sod off," she replied, not even looking at him as she guzzled the rest of her beer. "Next one who asks me te shag is gettin' a well-placed kick... if ye get my meanin'." 

Of course, they didn't listen. The catcalls and crude comments continued, probably because they knew she'd never act on any of it. As much as she wanted to, she'd likely be tossed out on her arse if she ever delivered on her threats because that's not what Tommy paid her for. He paid her to fight, to win... and she wouldn't be able to do either effectively if she let those big morons get to her. So she usually saved her rage for her opponents instead: once she was in the ring, she could release the years of anger and pain and self-hatred that had been building almost from birth and channel it into caps- the bloodier, the better. Raiders lived for a good bloodbath, and she'd give them one... for the right price, of course.

She was relieved when Tommy finally summoned her, and she grabbed another beer on her way to the cage, downing the whole thing in a single impressive gulp before tossing the bottle into the crowd. The sudden rush made her woozy and, combined with the Psycho she'd injected only an hour before, her entire body was engulfed in a warm, golden light. She wasn't Catherine- poor, weak, defenseless Catherine- anymore; she was Cait, the warrior with wings and fire in her veins, who never lost a bout and could beat a man to death with his own arm if the money was good. 

Maybe, one day, she'd shed those skins... or, better yet, find someone who'd finally love them both.

**Author's Note:**

> nope, no sunshine and rainbows here. and von/cait's relationship is not romantic, obvs.
> 
> tl;dr 
> 
> since von and cait are bffs in the _baby, it's just you_ timeline, there will likely be some overlap between it and this one. canonically, _angel in the ashes_ is first, as von's friendship with cait is well-established by the time she meets mac. and, while no time frame is expressly stated, it's implied that the girls were friends for a long time (likely over a year) before any boys entered the picture.


End file.
